It Will Come
by unpredictablemary
Summary: I wrote this last week and it seems very fitting given Matthew and Mary's conversation in 3x04! Set within Season 3, but otherwise no real spoilers. M/M angst and fluff! My first time publishing, please review :)


Mary had tried to ignore the cramps coming on all throughout the afternoon, but now her abdomen burned and twisted in that all-too-familiar way. She tightened her grip on her teacup and tried to concentrate on what her mother was saying, laughing a little too loudly at Granny's response. Matthew caught her eye from his place at the mantel with her father, and Mary flashed him a brief, reassuring smile. Another cramp swelled in a painful wave, and Mary put a hand to her stomach. Suddenly tears threatened to prick at her eyes.

"Mary? Are you all right?" her mother asked.

"I'm not feeling quite well," Mary replied, standing up and setting her teacup on the table. "I think I'm going to go upstairs and lie down. Good night." She strode out of the room before Matthew had a chance to volunteer to accompany her.

Mary didn't bother undressing or ringing for Anna when she got to her room. She knew a hot compress would help, but the idea of talking to someone only only made her stomach pain worse. She curled up on her bed on top of the covers and tried to think about something, anything other than the ache in her uterus.

In spite of herself, it was Matthew who swam to the front of her mind as she lay there, and as much as Mary didn't want to see anyone, she couldn't help wishing his arms were around her. Her husband... Sometimes she was overwhelmed by the happiness of it all. Had she really been that lucky? Had things really worked out like this? She had done nothing to deserve him, she thought, as she often did. What if she failed him? Mary's heart beat a little faster thinking about it. How she loved him. She didn't say it very often, but she did, and he knew. What if she failed him?

Between her cramps and her thoughts, Mary felt a little dizzy. She closed her eyes, willing herself to go to sleep, but a moment later, she heard the click of the door and recognized the sound of Matthew's step on the carpet. The door shut softly again.

"My darling?"

"Mm." Mary smiled to show him she was awake. She let her eyes flutter open as she felt him sit down next to her on the edge of the bed.

"Are you all right? What's the matter?"

"Nothing, Matthew," Mary replied. "Just my usual monthly paces." She rolled her eyes and tried to laugh, but the sound was harsh.

Matthew reached up to smooth back her hair. He stroked her forehead, her temple, and her fingers found his other hand. She squeezed it gratefully.

"Mary," Matthew said softly. "What's wrong?"

Mary rolled her eyes again, trying to push away tears and keep her gaze up and away from Matthew's loving eyes. She felt stupid, but she spoke anyway. "I just thought... I thought we might have a baby by now, that's all." She spoke briskly, as if it didn't matter at all; she had wanted to protect Matthew from this, from her doubts and disappointed hopes. She smiled, but Matthew wasn't fooled by her tone.

"Oh, my darling," he said. In one swift movement, Matthew took her into his arms, cradling hers. He pressed Mary's head into his chest and kissed her hair.

"You do want a baby, don't you?" Mary asked, very close to crying. She hated herself for asking, but she couldn't help the question from slipping out.

"Of course I do!" Matthew replied, pulling away to look at her in surprise. "Of course. How could I want anything else?"

Mary nodded. She pressed her lips together, but tears spilled out. "I'm sorry," she said. "I thought I did, too. I still do. But what if I don't want one badly enough?" A sob escaped her throat. "What if I'm going to be a terrible mother and that's why we don't have one yet?"

"Mary!" Matthew sat up and pulled her up by her shoulders, forcing his wife to look at him. He kissed the tears away from her cheeks and then spoke very seriously. "Mary, you're going to be a wonderful mother. These things take time. It's only been a couple of months. Plenty of people wait longer than that for a baby. And we will make plenty of attempts," he added with a half-smile.

Mary laughed, dipping her head. "I know," she said. "I just... I'm so terrible at loving people. Don't try to deny it," she said when Matthew opened his mouth to object. "We would've been married years ago if it weren't for me."

"And me," Matthew said sharply. "We were both of us idiots. And the war came. If it hadn't, everything would have been different. Mary, you must not regret that time. We cannot dwell on it, except so far as it makes us grateful for what we have now. We lived our lives, Mary. Our story was longer than most, but it was a wonderful love story just the same," he said, giving her a soft kiss. He pulled Mary to him and settled back on the pillows. "It _is _a wonderful love story."

Mary gave him a watery smile and tucked her head into his shoulder. "I just worry..."

"You aren't terrible at loving people," Matthew interrupted firmly. "In fact, I would say you're very, very good at it. I have very good proof of that," he smiled. He kissed her forehead, her ear, her neck. "You love so strongly, my darling," he murmured. "So fiercely and loyally. Just like a mother ought. You must stop thinking this way. We'll have a baby when it's meant to come." He looked hard into his wife's eyes, and she returned his gaze with a tremulous smile. "I love you so very much, my darling," Matthew said. "And how could any baby born out of our love be anything but perfectly wonderful? He will know even more love than we have."

Matthew was surprised when his voice caught at the thought of their child. Mary nestled her head in the crook of his neck and he stroked her hair again, letting her weave her legs between his. "You will be a wonderful mother when the time comes. Our family will be the most full of love. I am not sure of many things in life, but that is one of them."

Mary tipped her head to look at her husband, her throat full and aching. "I love you," she said simply, because for once she couldn't think of anything else to say. Tears leaked out of her eyes onto his shoulder. "Oh, Matthew," she breathed. "If our family is good and loving, it will all be thanks to you. Whatever did I do to deserve you?"

"Plenty," Matthew replied with a small smile. "I mean it." Mary raised her head to kiss him, and their lips met sweetly.

"Are you in pain?" Matthew asked, laying a warm hand on her abdomen.

"A little. Better now that you're here." Mary snuggled back into his arms, and Matthew tightened his grip around her. Mary didn't know how to say anything to express the fullness she felt, the overflowing, swelling emotion that bloomed in her chest. She rubbed her toe back and forth over his ankle, hoping that might communicate a fraction of her affection and her thanks.

"I won't leave," Matthew said into her hair.

"But you haven't had dinner," Mary protested. "I can sleep," she said, reluctant though she was to let him go.

"We can ring for something later when you get hungry, too," Matthew said. "Dinner can wait. Anna will be able to make us up a tray of sandwiches."

Mary smiled against his chest and pressed a kiss to his ribs. A deep calm seemed to course through her, spreading peace throughout her body like a drug. She let her eyes close, absentmindedly stroking her fingers back and forth across Matthew's chest. This was all she needed, she thought. And Matthew was right. He had to be. Mary was still scared of her flaws, but Matthew was the antidote, he to hers and she to his. He must be right; their love for each other would only be magnified in a child. A baby would come. In the meantime, Mary was happy enough with their family, with her husband, a good a man as she had ever known. His arms and his understanding encircled her, and she knew everything would be all right.


End file.
